


Prodigious

by THA_THUMPP



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Short One Shot, Tentacle Rape, creeper love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2516150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THA_THUMPP/pseuds/THA_THUMPP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through the eyes of the Keeper when he first sets his sights on Detective Sebastian Castellanos and what he does when he gets his grubby hands on him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prodigious

**Author's Note:**

> What else is there to say? Other than we're really looking forward to The Keeper's DLC content... Oh, and that tentacle porn is never pretty. You have been warned.

He was big.

A monster of a man towering over seven feet-tall with a boxed safe clamped to his head. _Boxman_ , as most victims would scream when they saw him charging, the twang in his steps as heavy as his silence – but that didn’t mean he was hard to miss.

It was in his presence, the way he affected the lights like a poltergeist, warping them with some kind of altered form of bioelectromagnetism whenever he’d materialize from his spare heads scattered around the labyrinth.

He was the Keeper of the realm. The mean but not lean, unlike the bodies hanging here and there, laid out and scattered about like garbage that missed the bin. Sometimes in heaps, other times wandering. But not Boxman. He wasn’t a mindless monster like some of the other Haunted he was often grouped with.

Especially the AlterEgo freaks.

He hated those things as much as he hated the light of day. They were always bitching among themselves, gurgling in the dark. Their split personalities making it hard for them to wander far without getting confused. It took one head, two – no, _three_ just to make a decision, to act on instinct and not intelligence.

Not Boxman though… He knew where his head was.

It was on his shoulders, safely tucked away inside a box – kind of like how Detective Sebastian Castellanos was conveniently trapped inside the vault where he now stood.

Though names were second rate, and Boxman didn’t really care who the man was when he moved to get his hands on him. The detective was just another victim for him to pulverize – an _intruder_ – someone he could mince into ground beef and scoop into the sack he carried around. Just like the meat tenderizer in his right hand, the spikes as fine as the teeth on a hairbrush.

But that’s when Boxman saw the hair.

Sebastian Castellanos’ dark hair – or the back of the man’s head, at least. The detective was too busy rapping on the vault door and screaming for a boy to notice him approaching, after all. Except that just gave Boxman time to be a creeper and stare… stare before touching.

Because he had a type.

Boxman liked the tough-guy look. The way _Sebastian_ looked. How the man’s chocolate hair was dampened with sweat and dirt. Each strand wavy and defined. About as defining as the umber and barred waistcoat he was wearing, belt-strap tight like his coffee pants, cloth that seemed so thin despite his shoulders.

Simply put, Sebastian looked charismatic. Especially when he turned around.

Eyes dark and lips parted.

Sebastian’s face sang pure fear, and Boxman suddenly felt ugly when glimpsing something so lovely. No one knew, but he detested his own wardrobe. It was insipid to his mind’s eye, making him want to rip his own head off every time he thought of the way he was reflected in the lumbering, metal pipes around.

The grossness of his gumboots, his mucky apron and gloves, the reek of death riding high in his presence, his huge tenderizer layered with blood, guts, and whatever else came out of the bodies he’d macerated in fits of loneliness and rage – all of it.

But looks aside, Boxman had his strength in place of attraction. Arms the size of oxen, and a mind as depraved as a sentenced inmate, and after he was knocked down in size by a couple rifle rounds to the chest, he quickly took control of another box to latch himself above Sebastian’s shoulders. _Thrust_ his tentacles over the man’s mouth, wanting to suck the very life from the detective’s body, like marrow from a bone.

A _fleshy_ bone, and after a few useless thrashes from Sebastian, Boxman was in.

He got right up inside Sebastian’s throat with his grotesque tubes, pushed and slid them further than they could go. It felt like he was having sex for the first time in forever. His wriggling organs infatuated with self-preservation like they had minds of their own.

Boxman’s tentacles were thick, _ripe_ as they lathered themselves down Sebastian’s gullet – a virgin gullet – all in a variety of slips and slops. It was a tight fit, but the sensation of lubricating and twisting his muscles through tight and elastic flesh felt like heaven on earth – and the noises that poured from the detective’s throat only made the action even more satisfying.

Sebastian’s turbulent chokes and muffled growls sounded like a classical masterpiece inside Boxman’s head, bounced around like loose notes to a greater piece. A symphony composed of pain and fear, and it was wonderful – a clair de lune to the sordid blackness around.

The same pale blue-gray of Sebastian’s face, a suffocating blue, and that was when Boxman finally let go.

But not because he was conscious…

Boxman was pumped of adrenaline and high on ecstasy, his huge cock hard and throbbing up between his legs, mangled tissue well-hidden beneath his apron. It stretched high enough to rub the girth of his belt, teasing his already sensitive head as he struggled to keep a firm hold on Sebastian, like the man was sex doll deflating before round two.

Carnal knowledge.

Except Boxman wouldn’t stop at just slight penetration – not when he wanted to splurge. To stuff himself into Sebastian, to savor the luscious juices that filled and spilled from the detective, to make the man gape and whine like a caged hound.

Oh yes. Boxman wanted _everything_. To wrap Sebastian in barbed wire and take him on the floor, to rip him apart from the inside out, starting between his legs. So lanky even in their shakes. But just as Boxman made his move, his ideal climax was shattered like a mirror when Sebastian managed to slip from his grasp and duck out through the now-opened vault in a flee.

A speed too quick for a big hunk of junk, and Boxman was left twisted in his pants, fists clenched and banging at his own head, almost in a scold. Once, twice – which, being a masochist, was enough to satisfy his ache for now.

But honestly, he would’ve rather banged Detective Sebastian Castellanos instead…

**Author's Note:**

> Had to let the kink out of the box somehow....... #dearmotherofgod


End file.
